


Like the ancestors

by Melittassecrets (melitta4ever)



Series: Kinktober 2018 [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Branding, Dubious Consent, Evil John Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Gangbang, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Omega Dean, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/Melittassecrets
Summary: John Winchester is a traditional alpha. He won't hand over his only omega through this new, hippy-dippy marriage nonsense.For Kinktober 2018, Day 21: branding





	Like the ancestors

The bar was a little bit more upscale than what John had used to; a telltale sign that Mr Fohler was trying to impress them. Good. John ordered imported beer from the scantily dressed waitress, then sat back on the large, leather chair and enjoyed the soft music. Dean was kneeling next to him, on a soft cushion dedicated to omegas, instead of bare floor like he always did in their usual hangouts, the dive bars.

John patted Dean's hair, trailing his fingers through artfully spiked strands; making the golden glitter on them to flicker and shine under the neon lights. As he had guessed, Fohler's beady eyes zoomed in on Dean's sparkling hair. A hungry alpha look.

“I love him, I do; but it's hard on the road with an omega this pretty,” John continued on the topic of their omegas while pulling Dean's hair back, exhibiting the said prettiness to their host.

“I can see how he might cause one or one hundred problems,” Fohler said licking his lips, pupils already dilated.

“I'm not one of those stringy alphas, Fohler—”

“Please, call me Mike. We're friends now…” He waited for John's nod, then added, “John.”

“That we are. It was great doing business with you, Mike, but it's even better to have your friendship.”

Mike smiled like a cat who got the canary. Still, John shouldn't let things go too easy, otherwise even this sucker might change his mind.

“I was saying, I'm not stringy with my omega; but you should see some of the things some alphas demand, Mike. It's ridiculous.”

Mike nodded his head as if he totally knew what John was talking about; the fat folds on his neck moving much like an accordion.

“I offered one guy a blow job and he asked to knot Dean,” John continued, shaking his head to the made up offense. “He was gonna breed my omega. Can you believe that?”

“Was Dean in heat?” Mike asked, inhaling deep as if he could catch the scent of omega in heat.

“Are you kidding?” John grasped Dean's neck and pushed it to the side; molding his omega into the submissive posture. “We can't leave home when he's in heat. He's too distracting.”

“Oh,” wheezed Mike, gaze moving over Dean's neck and body.

“I'm sorry,” John laughed. “Where's my manners? Would you like a blow job, Mike?”

“Here?” gasped Mike, eyes finally on John.

“Why not?”

“I wouldn't wanna impose—”

“Nonsense!” John stopped him with a hand gesture. Then, he turned to Dean, “Dean, go show our host some gratitude.”

If Mike was going to object any more, he swallowed all that upon seeing Dean crawl in front of him. Poor bastard. He probably never seen an omega as pretty as Dean before, let alone touch one.

Dean opened Mike's tent size pants and expertly found his dick between the massive flaps of his belly. It was a nice size alpha dick, impressive even. John could tell the exact moment Dean swallowed Mike's dick up from the way his broad face lit up with surprise. John knew that feeling too well.

“He's not made of glass, my friend.” John grinned, “Enjoy yourself like you mean to,” he encouraged the guy.

Mike's sausage size fingers covered Dean's head, maneuvering him over his dick as if trying to fit himself into something a size smaller.

While sipping his beer, John watched Dean's nimble fingers surrounding Mike's knot, milking it; probably synchronized with his mouth.

“I hope he was satisfactory,” John asked when Dean lifted his head up, licking the remnants of cum from the corners of his mouth.

“More than… he truly is a miracle, John.” Mike answered, his breath coming out in rapid puffs. “You're one lucky alpha.”

“I know, I know…” He leaned forward and continued with an almost whisper. “If it wasn't for the way he could milk my knot with that ass, I'd've given him already.”

“I can only imagine,” Mike answered, wiping sweat off of his face. “But… if you don't mind my asking, John. You're a young alpha, why would you give him. You can leave him at home when you're traveling. No?”

Mike was fishing. Smart for his standards.

“Ahhh… You found my real problem.” He let out a loud sigh. “I can't leave Dean at home.” John shook his head with a fake regret. “I have another son. An alpha who's gonna drop his knot any day now.”

“I see.” Even though he was noticeably trying to hide his joy, Mike's face was open, like a children's book with giant fonts.

“Problems of having a small family.”

“Yeah,” nodded Mike, the wheels were turning loudly in his brain. “A young alpha can't control himself.”

“Goddess protect, I might end up with an inbred baby at home.”

Mike dusted off his left shoulder with a shudder, as is the custom to send away the bad fate. John repeated the action.

“You're playing with fire, my friend.”

“If a capable, serious alpha who can provide for Dean asks for him, I'll say yes.” John delivered his sales pitch. “But either the young ones keep asking—”

“Nah,” Mike puffed a laugh, “Young alphas can't take care of a fly.”

“Exactly!” nodded John, “I don't know why I can't get offer from respectable alphas.”

“Not everyone could take care of such a bewitching beauty,” said Mike slowly, emphasizing each word.

“Can you?”

“You've seen my house, John,” preened Mike. “I've five betas and two omegas in my family.”

“So, are you saying…”

“I ask your omega by the rights of moon, John Winchester,” Mike used the specific wording for a traditional request. “What say you?”

John smiled and shook the guy's hand. 

The rest was easy. John didn't ask too much as the omega price; didn't want to unnecessarily prolong the process. He didn't ask too little either; at the end, Dean was worth his weight in gold, literally. 

“So on Monday when the clergy is open—” Mike started only to be cut by John.

“Are you one of the omega divorcing alphas?” 

“No!” He looked offended, rightly so; no alpha worth his knot would ever leave his omega.

“If your intentions isn't for life long don't even—”

“Mating is for life, John. Please don't talk like that.”

“Than you should know I don't care that legal mambo jambo.” Omega right activists had finally passed the law that alpha-omega mating too should be treated like a marriage. Though the government couldn't enforce the law when the big majority of people tightly believed the old ways.

“People prefer the new method of mating just because it's not as harsh on omegas.”

“Let the ones who can't raise strong omegas do that, my friend. My omega is tough. He'll belong to his mate. Forever.” The way Mike's eyes dilated with a renewed passion told John that none of his omegas were mated him traditionally. “We'll do this like our ancestors did. I'll bring him to you tomorrow for the mating ceremony. None of this new age wedding crap.”

“Like the ancestors,” grinned Mike, shaking John's hand. “Let them smile upon us and this mating.”

  
  
  
  


The ceremony was still too crowded for John's taste. Mike had apparently wanted to show off his new omega to his friends and invited at least a dozen alphas. John accepted his price; cold cash, gold coins as well as a pair of beautiful pistols. He repeated the sacred words that he had memorized; giving away every rights to his omega to this new alpha to use and to seed and to share as he saw right.

Mike brought his family's ceremonial paraphernalia, placed them in front of Dean. As in tradition three piece to choose from. Fohler family crest was too intricate, John observed, its brand would require continued irritation over a month to get the details right. 

“To discourage sloth,” Mike announced lifting up the large plate for branding the butt cheeks. Sitting on a burned butt would definitely discourage laziness, at least until it healed. 

“To discourage pride,” he lifted up the small plate; the one for the feet. Omega with branded feet would never stand in front of his alpha, always kneeling, always bowing. 

“To discourage gluttony,” he showed off a cylindrical tube, for the omega dick. Getting an erection would become extremely painful for the omega, even after the burns healed. An omega with branded dick would focus only on his alpha's pleasure, never his own desires.

As for tradition, Mike asked for John's opinion; as the current alpha he'd know what his omega would require the most.

“I wouldn't do the feet,” John offered, “His striptease is too good to pass.”

“I don't wanna mar his ass,” Mike said, “he's too pretty.” He leaned in and whispered, “Will he need something to help with pain?”

“He will enter his mating awake,” John announced. It was a matter of honor.

“Of course.”

 

When Mike stuck the iron cylinder into the blazing fire, John took the mouth-bite and placed it between Dean's lips.

“You know what to do, omega. Make me proud.”

 

The tradition required John, the ceding-alpha, to hold the omega while the receiving-alpha marked him as his. So, he stepped behind Dean and took off his loincloth. He, then, trapped Dean in a cross-faced chickenwing hold, leaving Dean's one arm free to show off the omega's obedience through this tribulation.

Mike eyed Dean's limp dick. His eyes moved up to John's, needing some kind of permit or a little push maybe. John nodded, hoping the guy wouldn't lose his cool at the last minute.

When the glowing metal came to the branding table, Dean tighten impossibly more under his hold, all his muscles flexing to brace for what was coming. Mike split opened the branding cylinder using its convenient tongs.

“Lift your clitty up, omega,” ordered John and watched Dean to obey.

Mike pushed the burning metal under the flaccid penis. Oh, he was grinning. The bastard was enjoying this. John could finally relax. Mike definitely wouldn't stop or ruin the ceremony if he was enjoying it this much.

They shared a determined look and John gave his last order as Dean's alpha:

“Drop it, son.”

Mike acted quick, expertly so; before the burnt-meat smell rose from the bottom of Dean's prick, he closed the cylinder, squeezing the meat between the red-hot metal markings. 

Dean shook inside John's arms; every single muscle trembling with exertion. But he didn't scream or fight. A good omega.

The stench of branding filled John's nose, making his eyes water. It was strong enough to make Mike and some others heave. 

This was it.

When Mike opened the cylinder, Dean was going to be his. The family crest covering Dean's dick would declare that fact to the whole world. The rest of the ceremony was going to be done without John since the former alpha of the newly owned omega had no place in the entertainments. Not that John was willing to stay any longer. He already got an eyeful when Mike bent the still quivering Dean over the branding table and entered his ass before John could take his leave.  _ Blegh _ . If John never saw another dangling fat from Mike's whalelike body, it would be too much.

  
  
  
  
  


The owl over the willow tree hooed yet another time. It was getting really late. John tried to find a comfortable position on the seat, but his ass was getting numb. They had been waiting for hours. At least little Sammy was asleep and John didn't have to hear those annoying _how much longer_ s anymore.

He checked his watch again, almost 5 am. They should have left two hours ago. John really didn't want to drive in this town when the sun was up. That's when he saw the bushes shaking. There he was!

“Where the hell have you been?” he yelled, watching his son hobbling along with a limp. 

“I've had to entertain all the guests,” he answered with a hoarse, low voice. 

“You didn't clean afterwards. Moons! You smell like a toilet in a whore house.”

“I could barely escape—”

John silenced him without a lifted finger.

“Get into the trunk, I can't have you stink the Impala.”

“Can I have the healing spell?” he begged. “It hurts like a—”

“We're already late.” John explained while pulling the lever for the trunk. “We should've left the state by now.”

“Dad,” Dean insisted like an insolent child. “Please.”

“I said we're late, Dean. Get in the trunk. Now!”

“Yes, alpha.”

When John heard the trunk closed, he started the car, too impatient to leave the town before Mr Fohler realized his newly obtained omega was missing. Mike would get upset, angry, furious even; but there wouldn't be anything he could do. There was no legal documents binding John or Dean to the sucker. And the warrants for an omega with Fohler crest branded on would result nothing when the healing spell took care of that. If Mike was resourceful, he might find out similar cases around the country. Not that it would help him any. No one looking at Dean's pristine skin would consider the possibility of him being owned before, let alone for six times.

Finally eating away miles on the road, John could breathe free. He would start the healing spell as soon as they pass the state border, after finding a place to wash Dean from all that alpha jizz first, of course.

Bon Jovi's Wanted started on the radio. One of Dean's favorites. John upped the volume a notch so that his son too could enjoy it from the trunk. The boy definitely deserved it.

  
  



End file.
